


The Quiet Are Restless, The Silent Are Still

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asthma, Fever, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Sick Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: BIRTHDAY FIC FOR THE WONDERFUL CELOSIAA!!!!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAVE A SHORT LITTLE FIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	The Quiet Are Restless, The Silent Are Still

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celosiaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa/gifts).



> no trigger warnings i can think of besides an asthma attack and nightmare maybe?

“Wooahh, you look like shit, Boss”

Tim frowned when he looked at Jon, his nose was red and his eyes were puffy, and bags beneath his eyes were a little worse than usual.

“Tim, I know you haven’t grasped the concept of respect for me, but do try and fake it.”

His voice was stuffy and rough, he was trying to look strong, but failing miserably.

Tim sighed, honestly it wasn’t worth the fight, Jon would wear himself out but it was still hard to watch him.

“Alright, come get me if you need anything, yeah? And go home on time.”

Jon nodded, and stalked off to his office, and Tim watched him, trying not to worry about how Jon swayed slightly.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim heard a crash from Jon’s office, he made eye contact with Sasha before standing up.

“Don’t worry, I got him.”

Sasha nodded and bit her lip, she was still worried but also needed to finish this.

Tim knocked on the door to Jon’s office and was met with nothing but the sound of a tape recorder.

“Alright, Jon, I’m coming in.”

Tim swung open the door to see Jon on the floor, breathing heavily and staring blankly at the ceiling.

Tim’s heart stopped for a split second before he calmed himself, and stepped into the office and kneeling beside the frail man.

“Jon, are you alright?”

He clearly wasn’t, and when Tim reached to touch him, he didn’t even respond, but his breath was coming out in sharp wheezes and his face was red.

“Shit- your inhaler, alright, let me just-“

Tim bolted up, and quickly opened the drawer where Jon kept his inhaler, before crouching back next to him, and sliding his arm behind the small man’s back and propping him up against his chest, and he winced at the heat rolling off of him.

“Alright, here.”

Tim pressed the inhaler into Jon’s mouth and helped him take it, and after, he let Jon lean against him, until his head fell to the side, and he was asleep.

After Tim was sure Jon was out, he lifted him up, cradling below his legs and letting Jon’s head rest in the crook of his neck, ignoring the sweat causing his shirt to dampen.

He carefully made his way to the storage room he knew Jon kept a cot in, and laid Jon down on the bed.

“I’m going to get the first aid kit and some medicine, don’t move”

Tim knew Jon couldn’t hear him, but it didn’t hurt to say.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim got back, checked his temperature, and woke him up, just enough to take some Tylenol and force water down his throat.  
  
But the peace was disrupted, Jon was tossing and crying out, asking someone to stop, and something about knocking..?

“Shhh Jon, you’re okay, you’re alright.”

Tim gathered the shaking bundle of Jon into his arms while he cried, and ran his hand through tangled hair.

“Plea-please don’t- I didn’t- I didn’t-“

Tim’s heart broke, and he carefully shifted onto the small cot, and Jon must’ve been able to tell, because he almost instantly practically climbed onto Tim’s lap.

“Oh Jon, you’re okay, you’re safe, shh.”

He picked up the water bottle he had grabbed, and pressed it to Jon’s lips.

“Just drink a little, then you can rest, alright?”

Jon obliged, and after a few moments, settled into a fitful sleep, pushed up against Tim, and Tim may or may not have snapped a picture, for Martin showing purposes.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is haunted-by-catholic-guilt!!


End file.
